


Absolution

by Cyberfairie



Series: Spy Business [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 12:25:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3768394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberfairie/pseuds/Cyberfairie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That something is drastically wrong with Bull is apparent to Dorian, the question is what?  And how can he fix it?<br/>Shameless bit of angst and fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolution

Dorian certainly doesn’t watch every one of Bull’s sparring sessions.  Ok, so he might be drawn more often than he’d like to admit to take a peek out the window of his nook and if Bull _happened_ to be in the training ring then yes, time would seem to disappear.  But he didn’t typically attend them in person, as he was today, with a book in hand and the late afternoon sun still warm on his skin as he sat watching from one of the benches near the training ring.

So it might be the up close and personal view that was leaving him thinking that today’s bout was different.  Somehow less training and more _real_.  Bull typically ended the day with a new bruise or two to show for his time spent in the ring but today Dorian could count at least four spots where blood flowed freely as Bull allowed Krem to hammer him yet again with his shield.

“Again Krem,” Bull’s voice rang out as he slapped his hand against the edge of his own shield.

“I’m done Chief,” Krem countered, stepping away.

“Pretty sure I say when we’re done Krem.”  Bull’s tone had Dorian frowning.  Something was definitely not right.

Dorian watched as Krem approached Bull and said something too softly to be overheard before nudging him with his shoulder and heading off toward the tavern.  When Bull just stood there, stock-still in the middle of the training ring Dorian could no longer ignore his intuition.  Approaching his lover carefully, he had learned it was never a good idea to surprise Iron Bull, Dorian tried to keep his tone light.  “Is today the day of the month you let Krem win?”

Bull frowned at Dorian before looking at himself as if seeing the blood for the first time.

“Let me fix those Amatus,” Dorian offered, closing the space between them as he reached for Bull’s shoulder.

“Leave them.”

Dorian hesitated, hand fluttering uselessly for a moment before he lowered it.  “As you wish Amatus, but I assure you I am as fond of your blood being in your body as worn over its surface.”

“Not now Dorian,” Bull muttered, following in Krem’s path without a backward glance.

Dorian.  Not Kadan or 'Vint or even Mage.  Just the one word said more to Dorian about Bull’s mental state than any dozen he could exchange with anyone else.  Just as the fact that Dorian immediately set off after Bull said more about the state of their relationship than Dorian really wanted to think about.  A month ago he would have wanted to follow but not dared to.  Would have returned to his nook and listened to the ravens come and go rather than intruding on Bull’s privacy.  But now, now he had a lover he cared enough about to follow.

 

Allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light in the tavern Dorian wasn’t really surprised to see that Bull was nowhere to be found.  He was however relieved to see Krem sitting in his usual spot already, a tankard in hand.  Krem’s eyes narrowed slightly as Dorian approached.  “Vint.”

“Somehow that loses its effectiveness when said by a fellow ‘Vint.”

“But seeing you roll your eyes like that never gets old,” Krem explained with a gesture of his tankard that had ale spilling at Dorian’s feet.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure it’s all rather amusing,” Dorian muttered, moving slightly to avoid the puddle that formed.  “What I really wanted to know is what’s the matter with Bull?”

The question sobered Krem in a hurry, a slight frown marking his face before he finally admitted, “Not really sure to be honest.  He gets like this this time every year.”

“Every year?” Dorian stuttered, surprise coloring his words.  “He gets like this every _year_ and you have no idea why?”

“Might surprise you to know the Chief’s not really a talker,” Krem answered defensively.  “Not about stuff that matters.”

“Yes, well, I might have noticed,” Dorian admitted with a wry grin that Krem returned.

“I’ll say this much, typically he’ll take a beating like he did today, from contracts if we have them, me and the boys if he doesn’t.  Then he’ll drink whatever it is away in his room and he’ll be better tomorrow,” Krem finally admitted with a shrug.  “You might just want to leave it be, it seems to work for him.”

Dorian walked away without saying anything more, Krem’s suggestion floating around his head only long enough to convince Cabot to part with a bottle of questionable whiskey.  Then, before he could question his own decisions, for he was learning when it came to matters of the heart it was better not to give his mind time to rethink them, he headed towards Bull’s room.

 

After his conversation with Krem Dorian was half prepared to find the door locked but when he tried the handle it turned freely.  Stepping inside he knew he’d been right to come.  He could feel it in the air even before he closed the door to find his lover sitting at the small table to his left.  It was a heavy thing, regret.  Not the sort of regret that one felt for a word misspoken or a feeling hurt in error, but the regret that said lives were ruined, loves lost, worlds collapsed.  Regret that weighed so heavily there were no words that could fix it, no amount of drink that could float it away.  And so Dorian set aside the bottle in his hand and did the one thing he could.

He knelt before his lover, his eyes on his task so Bull didn’t feel obligated to speak, and reached for Bull's boot.  Then, when the second boot was lined up with the first, Dorian pushed up the left leg of Bull’s pants and loosened the straps for his brace before adding it to the pile.  Stepping away only as far as Bull’s washbasin he brought the whole bowl back with him to the floor and warmed it before dipping the first rag in. 

To give his lover the space he needed he started back at that first foot, washing away the heat and grime of the day, then laying the rag down to run his fingers back over warmed skin, his fingers finding each knot of tension and easing it before moving to the next.  From foot to ankle, calf to knee, he worked without words either needed or expected.

Once both legs had been treated he sat back on his heels, looking up at his lover for the first time and seeing such a host of emotions in that one grey eye that he was forced to look away.  “Kadan…”

“Hush.” Dorian whispered gently, rising to his feet and reaching for Bull’s hand.  Encouraging the warrior to his feet Dorian tugged him toward the bed, fingers deftly working the buckles to that ridiculous belt and letting it drop unheeded to the floor. 

He caught Bull’s curious look as his pants quickly followed but Dorian just nudged his lover to sit down on the edge of the bed and retrieved the wash basin.  With a flick of his wrist he set the fire to burning in the hearth, its soft glow replacing that of the fading sun and resumed his ministrations.  The going was slower here as Dorian found himself taking the time to heal each cut and bruise he found.  Healing might not be his specialty but he was pleased to have at least the most basic of skills to ease his lover’s pain.

By the time he finished washing the blood and sweat from Bull he could feel the other man finally relaxing, whatever demons he was facing inside that overworked brain of his finally beginning to lose their hold on him as Dorian shifted to reach for the horn balm Bull kept by the bed.  As he opened the container he couldn’t help the bit of red that rose to his cheeks.  It had been an interesting night the evening he’d learned that Bull knew Dorian made the balm himself.  It would seem Sera had a problem keeping her mouth shut about things that didn’t concern her and yet by the end of that night Dorian had been so pleasantly exhausted by Bull’s ardent appreciation that he hadn’t found it in himself to mind.

From his viewpoint, standing before the warrior, he watched as Bull’s eye slid shut with the first swipe of the balm to the base of his horns, his head tipping forward slightly so that his forehead rested against Dorian’s chest.  It was far from being the best position to work the balm in from but Dorian adapted, nimble fingers moving against skin and horn until he was certain that every last inch had been eased.

Unable to resist he placed a soft kiss to the top of Bull’s head, directly between the horns before sliding back and encouraging his lover to stretch out on the bed, laying on his stomach so Dorian could perform one last task.

Reaching for the oil he knew he’d find in the nightstand Dorian poured it into his own hands, warming it slightly before applying it evenly to his lover’s skin.  Again his fingers sought out the knots and lines of tension the warrior held and worked at them until they released, each one drawing a soft sigh of relief from his lover.  Inch by inch he explored Bull’s skin, fingers gentle over scars he knew the history of and those he didn’t, his touch lighter in those spots he knew were habitually sore as only muscles that hefted a weapon the size of Bull’s could get.  And those few ticklish spots he took pity on tonight, using a firm stroke instead.

Pressing another firm kiss to the space between Bull shoulders Dorian moved quietly, tidying up before preparing to leave.  He had thought his lover asleep until Bull’s hand shot out to catch him as he headed for the door.

“Stay Kadan,” mumbled sleepily.

“As you wish Amatus,” Dorian affirmed, stripping silently before crawling in beside his love, his own mind curiously quiet.

 

Dorian woke in the morning to the feel of Bull’s fingers lightly stroking his arm where it lay over his lover's chest.  He knew the moment Bull was aware that he was awake as the larger man stiffened slightly beneath him and this time it was Dorian’s turn to run soothing fingers in gentle circles over his breastbone.

“It was my last mission in Seheron….”  Bull finally started, and Dorian did the only thing he could and listened.  Listened to the horrors his love had faced, of the men he’d lost and the innocents slaughtered by both sides.  Listened as Bull described the events that had led him to turn himself in for reeducation when he couldn’t escape the memories.  Listened as Bull let go of the regret that had haunted him for years and Dorian could only hope in speaking of it that Bull found some absolution.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> We can all thank the sneak peeks of the World of Thedas vol 2 all over Tumblr for this bit of angst that just wouldn't leave me alone. The thought of Bull fighting of so long was just heartbreaking...
> 
> But also because Dorian almost never gets the chance to be the caregiver...I believe it suits him (in moderation).


End file.
